


Mixing Time

by taterdoom



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taterdoom/pseuds/taterdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave doesn't come from the rough side of town but he's close enough to know what it is. He spends a lot of time roaming the streets and he knows exactly which are safe and which to avoid. However, what happens when he roams into the richer part of town, where kids like him aren't exactly run-of-the-mill?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixing Time

**Author's Note:**

> My otp doesn't have enough fics of it ehe. 
> 
> If you see anything wrong, please let me know!

Dave swayed with the bus as it rattled back and forth, destination: nowhere. Usually he walked in whatever direction he felt like exploring that day, however after memorizing all of the roads closest to his house he decided it would be best to float along a different air current. Letting strange forces whisk him away in whatever course they chose may not have seemed like the best idea to most, but it worked for him. Whenever he wasn't busy working, strifing, or at school he spent his every waking moment on the streets. They were his home.

The buildings chugged slowly by him and he tried to distract himself from thoughts of the real world. To relax into that mindless drone that would overcome him while walking. It was harder to embrace that mindset without moving, though.

A couple noticed his eyes trailing over the bus. The woman's expression resembled a glare, however Dave couldn't be sure. It reminded him of the time that a lady on a train had said something nasty to his brother when he was younger. At the time, he hadn't understood what she was saying or just how mean it was. He had understood the tone, though, and had swiftly kicked her in the shin. Dave hated that woman with a passion to that day, especially since he now understood the implications of her phrase.

But it was better not to assume.

The man simply looked him up and down a few times, expression blank. He shrugged off their looks they way his bro had taught him to. When he'd been dragged away from the lady on the train, Bro had wiped Dave's cheeks. Dave hadn't even realized he'd been crying. Bro popped his glasses onto Dave's face, telling him that not letting them get to him was the most important thing. That what they thought didn't matter. That he was a Strider, which was more damn important than anything in the world. Nothing could touch a Strider, because they were perfect, even if the world couldn't always see it. Shrugging things off and being the bigger man was harder than listening to the bullshit spewed from other's mouths. That's what made them different.

Turns out Dave used that lesson more than he'd ever realized he would. Sometimes he wished things were different so he wouldn't have to be the bigger man, however thanks to Bro he had accepted that the world was terrible a long time ago. Some people were good, some were bad, and there wasn't shit he could do to change it. He could only keep on walking and not let it touch him.

He turned his eyes from the people staring at him back to the world outside the window. The scenery had slowly started to change without him noticing. The streets were cleaner, the buildings in prime condition, no chipped paint or dirty windows, and then things clicked. He was in uptown.

Not to say he lived in the slums; just a mediocre place. Bro brought home plenty of dough, but believed in a meager existence so that they could thrive longer in case of rollbacks in jobs. His smuppet business raked in a lot, but not always enough to keep food on the table _and_ electricity running. Better to be safe than sorry.

Refocusing his attention to the posh exteriors surrounding him, he figured that despite his scraggly looks that the winds had dragged him this far and that he might as well continue.

He'd just have to be careful not to break anything.

Stepping off the bus, he noticed that not only did everything look cleaner but even the air felt cleaner there. He laughed to himself, thoughts rambling and bringing images of dozens of windmills all lining up in a row just to flush in the perfect, clean air for this part of town. He tossed it up to his brain making up shit that wasn't there, but held onto the idea. Maybe he'd put it in his comic when he picked it up again.

Foot moving one after the other, he counted the head of every person who turned to glance his way. He reached thirty before inwardly wincing and being glad for his sunglasses. He could hate their cowardice from behind them. His hair hanging in his eyes, his torn jeans, and his too dark skin were out of place in their perfected utopia. Not one of them would speak up and say a thing about it, but they would all stare. He would always feel the eyes on his body.

Then he would shrug it off, much like he always did.

_No use a staying angry at shit ya can't change._

Soft scents of cinnamon wafted through the air and he changed his direction to follow them. He walked three streets down, and it led him to a small bakery. He stopped outside and stared a moment, trying to discern just what was different about this building. It wasn't unlike the beige color nor the textures that contaminated the rest of the businesses on the street.

It just felt different from the rest of the area. A different he liked, and something he was drawn to. He shuffled his feet towards the door, opening it with the simple chime and rush of cold air surrounding him . Yet, all he could think as the bell chimed was that it ringed exactly the same way as the one in the bakery down the street from his own home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to give this a chance, and thanks for being you. <3
> 
> Also, a big thank you to my beta, Abby. I wouldn't be able to do this without you, lovely.


End file.
